Revelations
by Foxtail-Padfoot
Summary: DiNozzo's in a slump after Ziva leaves... and he's practically a dead man walking. Tiva plans! Rating lowered to T. My first NCIS fic!
1. Ch1

**Revelations**

**How far does the DiNozzo go? (Taking place after our favorite season clincher, Aliyah.) SPOILERS!!!**

Ch.1

Tony banged his head on the desk, still frustrated with himself. It was Rivkin's fault! She hadn't been there. She wasn't there. She was gone. Man, why did she have to be gone? It was his fault. All Tony's fault. Of course it was his fault. He always screwed things up.

Now the love of his life was gone who-knows-where with no Tony beside her. Why wasn't he there? He could be there! Why was there no Tony beside his lovely Mossad officer? He should be there.

"Tony!" The name and a headslap awakened Tony to the world around him. He looked up, glaring at Gibbs and McGee, and the world in general.

"Yes, boss."

"Dead Marine. Gas the truck. The better we do, the longer it'll be before…" Gibbs trailed off, but Tony knew. Vance wanted a replacement. No one could replace her. Gibbs knew it, Tony knew it; even Abby and McGee knew it.

Tony stood up, feeling the blood rush from his head as he walked to the elevator, slinging his bag as he went. McGee followed, his brow scrunched in worry. He began to open his mouth, but Tony stopped him. "Don't even say it, probie."

"I was just going to say-"

"Don't."

"She'll be back. There's no way… She's not Kate. Ziva will be back."

Tony glared until McGee shut up again. Didn't he know it! If Ziva wasn't back… he would go get her and drag her. Tony stared at the blank wall of the elevator door, not even noticing when Gibbs flicked the switch. "DiNozzo! Snap out of it!"

"What, boss." Tony stared straight ahead, not wanting to give in.

"DiNozzo, I think you're letting the past be your judge too much. What's done is done, and now we have a job to do." Gibbs looked at DiNozzo, feeling genuinely sorry for Tony. It was clear he loved Ziva… so clear… Gibbs thought that was the real reason Ziva had stayed in Tel Aviv. She had seen it too, in his actions- with her father, with Michael.

"I am doing it." Tony quickly flipped the switch again, letting the elevator continue its descent.

****

"What you got?" Gibbs said, sipping his coffee.

McGee looked up. "Sergeant Ryan Baxter. On leave from Quantico."

"Last time he was seen, was with his girlfriend. She said he left her house at three a.m., after a- late night," Tony continued. "She said he left in a huff, because they got in a fight."

"About what?" Gibbs threw out his coffee, waiting for Tony's response before he went for another one.

"Kinda stupid, really." Tony grimaced. "She told me that it was because he hadn't remembered to buy milk at the store."

"Why was milk so important at three a.m.?" Gibbs leaned in closer to Tony, curious.

"She liked to make cookies after they had- a personal few hours," McGee finished, seeing Tony's uncomfortable expression. Tony shot a glare at McGee. "Apparently the couple had run out of milk a few days ago, and he was supposed to have picked some up after work at the base yesterday."

Gibbs nodded shortly, glancing worriedly at DiNozzo. "So he left, then he turns up dead in the parking lot at the local convenience store. No obvious signs of struggle or wounds, just slight bruising around his neck. Time for me to visit our Duck."

****

"What you got, Duck?" Gibbs stepped into the morgue, dropping his coffee into the garbage can by the door.

"Ahh, our poor mister Baxter. Official cause of death is strangulation, but it was very curious to me. There were no signs of a struggle, yet the act itself- done with the killer's hands, judging by the bruising- had taken quite some time to fully kill him." Ducky looked up from the autopsy table, where he was finishing stitches on the deceased Marine's corpse.

Gibbs's brow furrowed for a moment, the comprehended. "He was asleep."

"Very good, Gibbs. I must say, you deduced that little fact a sight sooner than Mr. Palmer did. You know, this case reminds me of one that came through the morgue back in Edinburg-"

"Ducky!" Gibbs held up his hand. Ducky stopped, looking at him. "Sorry, but I need to go."

****Next Day

Gibbs was visiting Abby. Tony banged his head on the desk, having delegated his work temporarily to McProbie. Last night, Tony had bombed, lapsing back into the drunken state he hadn't been in since Jeanne and the first night he'd found out he'd be on that damned ship. Both times he had been with Ziva, to assuage the pain. He had sworn not to mope so hard over Ziva- but he couldn't. Yesterday had been too much; barely a week after Ziva remained in Tel Aviv… Tony had hoped to make it at least a month before he cried.

Yes, cried.

"I love her," he murmured, glancing at McGee through the hangover slur to see if the other agent, his current partner and unsaid best friend, had heard. "So much!" Tony yelled, banging his fist on the desk and startling the hardworking McGee.

McGee jumped and looked at Tony, his eyes sad. "I know." McGee then threw a water bottle at Tony, filled with the classic DiNozzo Defibrillator. Lemon, Tobasco sauce… How did he drink this stuff? At least it wasn't as gross as jasmine tea with lime. Though… maybe with a little Tobasco with it it might be all right.

"MaGoo! New plan!" McGee looked up. "Jasmine tea. Lime. Hot sauce. Please."

"Expanding your horizons, Tony?" McGee retrieved the bottle from Tony, heading off to the break room to brew the new concoction.

_Gaaaah…_ What the heck had Rivkin gotten Tony into? For that matter, what had Rivkin gotten himself into? The NCIS Special Agent still was not quite sure.

****Africa

The exotic woman spat blood out of her mouth, glaring at the Arab who wanted her information. "I tell you nothing," she growled.

The other man spat in her face, then brought her already broken arm up to his face. "What do I need to do to get you to talk… Ziva David," he murmured. The man carefully twisted, eliciting a scream from Ziva. "Now, tell me about your special DiNozzo. Start with him."

Ziva looked up, confused. Tony? Why Tony? She had a closer relationship with Gibbs, or McGee, or even Abby, right now. True, Tony was her partner… Former partner. But, she could not help but remember his green eyes, muscular body, foolish demeanor, and serious inner heart. "I tell you nothing," Ziva repeated.

"So sad. Perhaps I should show you something I think you will like?" The man smiled grimly, twisting the Star of David necklace he kept with him during interrogations between his fingers.

"That? It is no longer needed. You have made it clear I will not be requiring such ornaments again." Ziva did not fear her death. It would come at its own time, whenever that would be.

"No, this." The man stepped out of the room for a moment, coming back in wheeling a cart full of electronic surveillance equipment. Behind it, a board was pasted over with pictures. Images and video filled the screens.

With Tony.

Ziva gasped; she couldn't help it. Tony at lunch at their favorite restaurant, Tony stumbling out of a bar, Tony flirting with a woman, Tony talking to McGee. They were watching Tony! One screen stood out. Tony, sitting at his desk in the NCIS squadroom. Video feed. The image zoomed out, and a sniper rifle appeared. Farther out, and a sniper smiled at the camera. The video zoomed back in, now in front of the scope, with the target on Tony. The camera shifted so that the sniper could see through his scope. The camera stayed on Tony.

"Live." The Arab bared his teeth. "Tell me what I want to know or his brains get scattered."

Ziva drew in her breath, scanning the photographs. Tony… crying? Was it over her? Surely not… But it had been dated just a day ago, in Washington time.

"All right." Her dark brown eyes glared up at the other man. "I will tell you."

A tear trickled down her face, and her eyes rested on the image of her partner.


	2. Ch2

**Revelations**

**A/N: Thanks to Loopygirl33, the crazy girl down the street from me (lol), for idea bouncing with me. Not that you helped very much. :) Also, I want at least twenty reviews on this chapter. I allow anonymous reviews, and I got over twenty emails last night from people adding me to their favorites! So this should be cake! Btw, I am not Belisarius. Therefore, I'm not responsible for NCIS. Pity...**

Ch.2

"Don't kill him!" Ziva cried. "What do you need? Tell me."

The man smiled. "Tell me about this DiNozzo, and Scuito, McGee, and Gibbs. Perhaps even that Vance, as well. Everything about your team at NCIS."

Ziva nodded quickly, her eyes never leaving the image of Tony on the screen before her. His arm was still in a sling, and he was examining a report on his desk. "Tony…" she whispered.

"Go on," probed the man, holding up a remote. "I press this, and he's dead. You don't want that, do you." It was not a question. All the surveillance; they must know how she felt. But wait…

"Who do you work for?" Ziva murmured. "Tell me that, and you'll know everything, I promise." Only Mossad knew so much about her.

"That's for me to know, and you to not. Another out-of-line peep and the next target will be Special Agent McGee." The man brandished the remote menacingly.

Ziva narrowed her eyes before speaking without thinking. "Tell me who sent you. Then you can find out what I know."

She watched McGee deliver Tony something not water in a water bottle, speaking softly as Tony raised the bottle to his lips. "I want to know who pays you. I want to know why you selected Tony."

"Power of love. We thought you would not repeat the mistakes you made with Rivkin, but apparently you like signing your lovers' death warrants." With a laugh, the man pressed the button on his little remote.

"NO!" Ziva screamed.

****Squadroom

Tony sipped his new concoction, which actually tasted pretty good and cut the fog of drunkenness. Suddenly, the glass shattered in the window and the bottle was mangled, streaming the reddish liquid over his work. Electrical sizzling and McGee's yells of "Oh, my God!" made Tony turn to his partner.

"What the hell was that?" Tony mumbled semi-incoherently. McGee's eyes were wide, and Tony could see a bullet hole in the monitor of McProbie's computer.

McGee saw the shattered glass, and dived at the bewildered Tony. "Get down!" Another gunshot rang through the air as Timothy landed on his friend. "OWWWW!" McGee yelled. Tony looked up, and saw the graze wound in McGee's arm, leaking blood profusely.

"You know, McGee, that was a total moment killer," Tony said. "By the way, I think your computer's broke."

****

McGee dragged Tony out of the squadroom, looking closely at the dark nighttime skies for any trace of the shooter. Why would anyone want to kill Tony?

Scratch that. Lots of people wanted to kill Tony. Nevertheless, who would want to kill him by sniping him?

"The only person I can think of is Ari, but he's dead," McGee commented later as Ducky bandaged his arm.

Ducky glanced at McGee, thinking. "If you work in that direction, many of our suspects would be unlikely, except for a handful."

"Explain, Duck." Gibbs walked in, Tony following.

"Well, Jethro, Ziva prefers hand-to-hand combat or other similarly direct methods. Ari is dead, and you would not kill your own man. Mossad is a possibility, but I think Director David got what he wanted out of your visit to Tel Aviv last week." Ducky tied off the bandaging, and gave McGee instructions. "Treat the wound like a regular cut. The bullet didn't graze anything; it's just superficial."

Tony's face darkened at the mention of Ziva's name, something that the forensic psychologist slash M.E. did not fail to note. "Mossad is pretty likely, out of anyone, but Probie's right. This stinks of Ari-Sniper-Magic-Person."

Gibbs and Ducky looked at Tony, worried expressions on their faces. "Of course, the sniper is more likely to be… alive." Tony shifted uncomfortably.

"Tony, use the computers either here or in Abby's lab. She has bulletproof glass. McGee, you and I will go up to the bullpen and get portable computer-things, laptops, and go to Abby's lab. We're going to dig into Mossad and see what we find."

****

Tony rolled restlessly in his sleep, images floating randomly through his mind. Paula Cassidy seemed to be sitting before him through most of it, murmuring steadily in Hebrew and Arabic into his ear. Paula… Still as pretty as ever, even in death.

Hebrew? Arabic? Paula had been an interrogator, not a translator. She had died saving a group of Arab priests from a crazy suicide bomber. Arabic! Hebrew… Ziva? Tony knew his mind was drawing crazy mental conclusions, but it was possible.

"MaGoo!" Tony called, starting out of his heavy, dreaming sleep.

McGee started. "Tony, you scared the bejeezus out of me! What do you need?"

Tony raised a sleepy eyebrow. "What was on that laptop Rivkin swiped? Something about North Africa."

"Ah, it was about a terrorist training camp in North Africa. It was the info Rivkin was trying to get in L.A. Why?" McGee glanced curiously at DiNozzo.

"You… would never believe, McPractical."

****Africa

Ziva remained staring at the screens, watching a replay of all surveillance tapes taken of Tony. They went back much farther than her capture, which was just two days ago. The first tape was a video of her assault on Tony in Tel Aviv… with sound. How had these people gotten this?

"_You weren't there…"_

The words rang through her head, haunting her, as she watched Tony's agony over the week she had been away from Washington.

"_You weren't there…"_

Tony had been right. She was not there. Unfortunately, neither was Ziva sure she wanted to be.

Michael had become a bad seed. Ziva had known this; yet still she pursued him as lover. Tony… had been Tony. Now, viewing his life objectively in the harrowing week after her aliyah home, Ziva felt she could see his objective through her own tears.

Her Tony had not gone to work for three days after returning to NCIS and Washington. During those days, he spent most of his time in a bar near Ziva's old apartment, getting hammered. Drink after drink after drink, mostly of whiskey. Some bourbon. Then, each night, a cell phone call to McGee, who drove Tony home. The third time, the team cut him off.

*Flashback as Ziva sees it*

"John, hit me," Tony slurred to the bartender. The man slammed down a shot glass, which Tony gulped the contents of without looking. Then he gagged, recognizing the irrefutable flavor of the DiNozzo Defibrillator. "What the hell, John?"

"Courtesy of your friend." John beckoned with his head to a glowering McGee at the end of the bar.

Tony glared at McGee. "I can't believe you did that."

"I can't believe you're still coherent," McGee retorted. The younger agent hauled Tony up, dragging his protesting friend outside. "Okay, DiNozzo. Man up."

"I thought that's what I was doing, MaGoo. Drowning pain in alcohol has generally worked for me." Tony glared harder at McGee. Timothy head slapped Tony. "Ow! What was that for?"

"The first comment. This is for the second," McGee added, forcing Tony's head into the everpresent barrel of rainwater by the door.

Tony stood up, spluttering, wiping water out of his eyes. McGee raised an eyebrow. Wait, it wasn't McGee now- it was Gibbs. "Oh, no," Tony said. "No, no. Alcohol induced stupor! I plead the fifth!"

"I want three things from you, DiNozzo. I want you sober! I want you at work, tomorrow! And I want you to talk to McGee, damn it! I don't want to listen to you, but he's willing to! Believe it or not, we _all_ know how you felt about her. It was damn obvious, DiNozzo." Gibbs stared at Tony, which made DiNozzo back up a step.

Tony nodded. That was all he really had a choice of doing.

Ziva watched Tony recover, and become mostly sober again, and do his job. Then, the team got a case, just a day ago- and he relapsed, returning to the bar and drinking all night before going to work the next day. Ziva was amazed he hadn't been hit, since he walked home. Tony the next morning was mainlining Defibrillator, and actually had McGee make a modified version of Ziva's own hangover remedy with hot sauce added to the jasmine tea and lime.

Then McGee had gotten shot, and Tony nearly was killed. Four more inches to the right… She didn't want to think about it.

She couldn't hold it in now, and let tears flow down her bruised face.

**A/N Update: Judging by the four-odd more emails I have gotten regarding people favoriting my story, but none for reviews except for three people, two of whom were with me when I wrote chapter two, I would say that you people must not want me to update. (Moral: REVIEW OR NO CHAPTER THREE!!!!)**

**Thank you. Also, a reminder: I accept anonymous, signed, and flame reviews.**


	3. Ch3

Revelations

**A/N: Oh my gosh, you guys are pathetic! I would keep my word, but it's niggling me too bad that I'm almost done with Ch4 and I still haven't posted Ch3. Therefore, I want- like- twenty five or so on this chapter, to make up for you guys's lameness on pulling through on chapter 2. Do you know how many hits I have had on chapter two? Like, more than chapter one! It's crazy! But I only have 9 reviews total for my story!**

**Plus, sorry for the shortness. But I thought it ended in a good place.**

Ch3

Tony scanned through the flash drive McGee had procured from Abby's equipment. Abby would have done it herself, but the forensics technician had left already. He could have guessed some of the contents of the files, but others were new. Somalia! The Horn of Africa… It made sense. And from what Tony had uncovered in Israel, Ziva had been the next up to take over the case.

"Gibbs! I know where Ziva is!" Tony yelled, causing the silver-haired agent to come into Abby's office.

Gibbs beckoned with his eyes in that unique Gibbs way.

"Somalia."

Gibbs furrowed his brow. "I need to talk to Vance."

"Nice talking to you, Gibbs," Tony called sarcastically.

****MTAC

Vance stared at Gibbs. "What would I know about the Horn of Africa?"

"I know you. You'd give the information to your good buddy Eli David." Gibbs sipped his coffee, gazing coolly at the director.

Vance laughed. "You're right; I would. But you don't know that I did, Gibbs. Let it go."

"One of my agents was almost killed, and the other was shot. So far, this is our only lead." Gibbs' voice rose angrily, and he crunched the empty coffee cup in his palms.

Vance narrowed his eyes, matching Gibbs' gaze. "I hope you find another lead. Goodbye, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs angrily exited MTAC, turning back at the door to glare for a moment at Vance. Then he threw the coffee cup at Vance's head, and hit.

"Nothing," Gibbs reported upon his return to the lab. "Vance won't talk."

Tony sighed and banged his head on the keyboard.

/RANDOM FLASHBACK

McGee looked into Tony's bloodshot, baggy green eyes. Tony just looked back, feeling rather haggard. "What, McGee? Just because Gibbs said I should talk to you doesn't mean I will."

"But you will," McGee replied. "You will; and I can guarantee this because if you don't tell me what's on your chest, I will stop making you Defibrillators."

Tony winced. "Fair enough, McProbie. But do you really want to know?"

"Yes, Tony. I do. You're my friend."

"Well, McGee, believe it or not- you're my best friend. So, here goes." Tony drew in his breath. "It's my fault. Everything. Ziva's gone because of Rivkin, and Rivkin's gone because of me."

McGee shook his head. "Tony, it is not your fault."

"Everyone says that. You know what? You're WRONG!" Tony slammed his fist on the table, rattling the dishes from his last meal.

"Tony, calm down. How are we wrong?" McGee was so damn cold. Nice, but… Calm. Like a block of ice. Good on a hot day.

"Simple. I put four rounds in that bastard Rivkin's chest. Bye, bye, Ziva."

McGee sighed, leaning back in his chair. He spent a moment examining Tony's apartment. Dishes piled on the sink or table; laundry piled high on one side of the loveseat that served Tony as couch. Beer bottles- only a few six packs- were scattered on the floor, next to piles of harder alcohol. All the whiskey Tony must have owned.

Whiskey, mostly.

"Tony, I hate to tell you, but Ziva stayed because she loved you. At least, according to Abby."

Those bloodshot green eyes flicked back up to him. "What else did Abby tell you?"

"A very long theory about Rivkin using you for cop-assisted suicide. He played Ziva, then got himself drunk to taunt you, and Ziva has loved you for a few years now."

"What?" Tony clarified. "About Rivkin?" He pretended to have not heard the last comment. There was too much pain down that street.

"Well, I kind of think Abby's logic makes sense, if it's a bit out there. Rivkin plays everyone for two goals, on Daddy David's orders. Gets Ziva to love him. He taunts you into jealousy, and gets himself drunk in order to bait you when you come by about Ziva's ISP codes. You kill him because he lost it, and Ziva's pissed. Daddy convinces her you were being malicious- jealous- enraged- whatever he said, and plays on Ziva's distrust of you commitment. You don't have the best track record with women, no offense. Ziva has to choose NCIS or Mossad, and picks Rivkin over you." McGee paused for breath.

Tony was baffled. "What on earth does that gain?"

"Ziva's aliyah, and no more Catholic DiNozzo by her side."

And there was that one thing Tony could never tell McGee…

\END RANDOM FLASHBACK

The next day, Tony woke up completely zapped. It felt like all his energy had been leeched from his bones, even though yesterday had been uneventful past his getting shot at. DiNozzo groaned, clambering out of his messy bed and pulling on a suit unhappily. He looked at the clock, and instantly realized why. It was 0400 in the morning. And he was on the couch in Gibbs' living room. And Gibbs' house smelled like sawdust.

Gibbs had insisted on it. Tony was not happy, but it was better than staying at McGee's. Or his own place.

Sigh…


	4. Ch4

Revelations

**A/N: Sick of waiting for you people to review. For those people who did review, you all carried the weight of twenty-five reviews. Thank you for caring enough to hit the green button. I want reviews, people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Ch4

Tony and McGee bent over the computer terminal, occasionally glancing through the sliding glass doors at the piles of evidence from last night, sitting ominously on Abby's table. "There has to be something here Vance doesn't want us to know," Tony murmured to McGee. "I mean, I think he gave this stuff to Daddy David- but then, what does he know that's not on here that Gibbs knows he knows but Vance won't tell?"

His partner's brow furrowed. "How well did you sleep at the boss's? You're making no sense."

"That's not the point. Plus, I'm sober. Gibbs' bourbon isn't to my taste." T ony's eyes _were_ clear again, not bloodshot and muddled like had become normal. "MaGoo, keep looking. I'm going to talk to Vance." Tony exited the lab, and ran straight into the Director. "Sir, I was just looking for you," Tony said.

Vance just glared. "Follow me, DiNozzo." With that, the black man stalked off.

"What ant got in his boxers," Tony whispered to himself.

****Somalia

_Ziva tossed her head restlessly in her sleep, still tied to her chair as she was. Tony floated before her eyes, green eyes dancing and voice playful._

_Do you want to tell me? I want to know. I want to know everything._

_What do you want to know? she cried. I will tell you everything!_

_Tell me why you left. Tell me why you abandoned me on the tarmac. Tell me why you will not save my life. Tell me why you can stare at my face all day but not tell that badass through there what you know about the Navy. About NCIS. About me! Dammit, Ziva, you know more about me than my mother!_

_Dream Ziva drew in her breath, facing her Dream Tony. The only Tony she had… the surveillance screens had been taken from her, except for the constant video of the snipers following Tony everywhere. She shook in her sleep, restless, scared._

_Tony… I love-_

A boot into her bruised and broken ribs awoke her from the dream. Ziva hissed, not willing to succumb to the scream that first came to her lips. She opened her swollen eyes, looking through her good eye at the man that had literally snatched her off the deck of the ship by helicopter to bring her to this tiny cell. He drew her arm up to his face- it had never really healed, because every day the appendage got bent and twisted.

"Are you willing to tell me about NCIS, Miss David?" The man twisted her arm, but not so hard she could not answer through the pain.

The Mossad assassin grimaced from the pain, but did not answer the man. Instead, her eyes flicked back behind her tormentor to the single screen with Tony walking through the squadroom. Her torturer's eyes followed hers to the screen kept by DiNozzo's would-be assassins. "Your choice," he whispered evilly, pressing the dreaded button on the remote the Arab carried always.

A look of horror crossed Ziva's face.

A crack ran through the air.

****Abby's Lab (Like… 10 minutes ago)

Abby rushed through the squadroom. She was an hour and a half late. Why had Sister Rosita needed girl talk right before work? For that matter, why did a nun need girl talk in a house with a bunch of other nuns? However it happened, Abby was so late she didn't see the yellow tape around the bullpen. Or the bloodstain below Tony's desk.

Scratch that. She saw the crime scene tape as she turned around in the elevator. Immediately, she squeezed out before the doors closed.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my GOD!" Abby rushed over, noting the tarp across a shattered window, and the empty desk of Tony, which still had residue from a red, pulpy liquid on it, and the large splotch of red on the floor that was definitely blood. Abby's mouth hung open. She blinked, moisture in her eyes. Abby raced to the elevator, and jammed the call button repeatedly until the elevator doors slid open. She did the same with the button to her lab.

The forensics expert raced to her lab, dashing through the open door and stopping dead when she saw the piles of evidence on her table. Tears openly streamed down her face when she saw the two bloody shirts in evidence bags, two bullets, McGee's computer, and various other detritus from Tony's desk in the bullpen. "D-Ducky!" she wailed, rushing to autopsy.

McGee looked up to see Abby rush out of the lab, bawling. "Oh, crap. No one called Abby!"

****Squadroom

Tony crossed the squadroom behind Vance, glancing briefly and distrustingly at the long wall of glass windows. "Really, Vance? Gibbs will have your-"

Vance cut him off. "You'll be fine, DiNozzo. Now get your ass up to MTAC. You have a call waiting for you."

DiNozzo perked up, hopeful, and followed Vance across the room. "Just so you know, it'd better be someone good."

The Director smiled to himself. "Oh, I think you'll like him, DiNozzo." Him? No. It had better not be. Not Daddy.

Just as Tony jogged up the steps, Vance a few steps trailing, a loud crack rang through the air.

So did a scream.

**** Autopsy (5 minutes ago to present)

Abby rushed in, stopping short just long enough to let the automatic doors open a few feet, then continued her dash into Ducky's domain. "DUCKY!" she yelled, sobbing.

The medical examiner turned from his table, where he was finishing stitching a body, and immediately de-gloved. "Abby, my dear, what is wrong?"

"Ducky… my lab… the bullpen," Abby poured out, running to the trays and pulling out every one of them. Before she got halfway, Dr. Mallard placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No one got hurt," he murmured. "Abigail, they are fine."

Scuito the forensics guru turned slowly to Ducky, her eyes red. "You're… sure?"

"Yes, Abigail. Someone tried to shoot Anthony, but no one was severely injured." Ducky nodded to her.

Abby paled. "Severely? The blood? Oh, god, what happened?" She began shaking. "Who got shot? Who…"

"McGee pushed down Anthony before the second shot was fired. The bullet barely grazed his arm," Ducky added. "It was just a minor scratch. I cleaned him up quickly, and he is fine now. Don't worry, Abigail."

Abby shook her head. "No wound is minor, Ducky! Why was someone shooting at Tony?! Why didn't anyone call me?"

The medical examiner sighed. "Abby, if you wish to check on Timothy, he is alive."

"Where is he, Ducky?"

A confused look crossed Ducky's face. "In your lab, of course. He could not exactly use his own computer, of course, since it has two bullet holes in it."

Abby's eyes widened. "Oh," she whispered. "I didn't see him."

"It was fine. I suspect Timothy felt just as bad for neglecting to call you." Ducky nodded, patting Abby on the shoulder. Abby hugged Ducky.

"Thanks, Ducky."

Ducky returned the hug with a smile.

Then the phone rang.


	5. Authors Note

**A/N: Does anybody remember how long Ziva said she could withstand torture? She said it in season three "Honor Code", but I don't own that season. Trust me, it's important to my plot. Don't forget, no chapter five until reviews!!!**


	6. Ch5

Revelations

**A/N: Thanks for actual reviews! I guess my ultimatum combined with a piece of info I needed is the right way to go for reviews! No one asked about my cliffhanger, though. *Pouts***

**And to clarify, Tony's arm is still in a sling. I do not know if I said that earlier in the story. I think I did, when Ziva was watching him, but I am not sure. Also, pay attention to my wordings here- there are subtle hints to later in my story.**

**ALSO! Sorry for so long to update, I was on a long drive to Florida to visit family, and have been having issues setting up the wireless to connect to my computer.**

Ch5

Tony cried out, seeing blood spray from the female agent's forehead. Her friend, who had been walking beside her, screamed. Images of Kate flashed before Tony's numb struck mind… He wheeled, seeing shattered glass tumble, glittering, to the floor. He could not see the sniper, but there was almost no doubt he himself had been the target- not the special agent Tony knew managed invoices. DiNozzo turned to glare at Director Vance. "I knew bad things would happen," he spat, turning away and stalking angrily into MTAC. DiNozzo wanted to investigate- but since the target was likely him, facing his least favorite Director seemed safer at the time.

"Anthony DiNozzo." The Israeli Mossad Director Eli David frowned.

"_Special Agent_ Anthony DiNozzo. How's your daughter?" Tony would not- could not- say her name aloud. Not to this man.

"Missing."

Tony stared. He recovered, barely, green eyes still intense on Eli David. "In Somalia?"

David's brow furrowed. "What do you know of the Horn of Africa?"

"Question on question. Answer me, I'll answer you." Tony rubbed the strap of his sling, remembering why Ziva was gone. Why he had killed the bastard who had broken his arm.

The Director of Mossad stared long and hard at DiNozzo. "Presumably. According to another on deck, she was snatched off the deck of the ship which she was aboard. A man on a dropdown helicopter ladder knocked Ziva out and grabbed her."

Tony's face paled. "How long?"

"I thought it was your turn to answer me, DiNozzo."

"_How long have you known Ziva was missing?"_

"She has been missing for three days. We received the intel late last night, your time."

DiNozzo glared. "Now I answer you. Somalia: where Rivkin's investigation led him. Where you sent Ziva to prove her loyalty and finish Rivkin's job, since I put the bastard under. Very dead. Where Ziva is being held by some bastard who owns a helicopter. Also a lot of technical stuff I swiped from the evidence locker, the crap from Rivkin's computer. But ask Special Agent McGee if you want to know about that."

"Hm," murmured the father of the woman Tony loved. "I shall make you a deal, Special Agent DiNozzo. Come to Tel Aviv. You may work with my team to track down Ziva- and maybe the one responsible for the attempts on your life."

How did… Vance. No time to worry about that now. Tony narrowed his green eyes. "Catch?" Nothing came free from a man like Eli David.

Daddy David leaned forward to the camera. "When this is over, I want you out of my daughter's life forever. Do we have a deal?"

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo hesitated for just one moment. His possible happiness or Ziva's security? There was a no brainer. She hated him now, anyway, and would never talk to him again. How much more pain would he feel for one woman?

Tony gulped, hesitant. "Deal."

**** Autopsy

Ducky answered his phone, only half hearing Abby's fearful whimpers. Caller ID said Jethro. "Is Anthony all right? Timothy is in Abigail's lab, so I trust he is quite fine."

"DiNozzo is actually going on a redeye to Tel Aviv later. No, Duck, the sniper missed by inches and hit another agent." Jethro sounded grim- grimmer than usual, at least.

"How tragic! Abigail and I shall be up shortly."

Abby looked at Ducky, fretful. "Tony?"

"He is fine enough to make a trip to Tel Aviv later this evening. Relax, my dear."

A broad grin spread across her face. "Tony's going to Israel? He's going to get Ziva, and bring her back, and everything will be fine! Life will be normal again!"

"Abigail, our priority shall be the deceased female agent who was shot instead of Anthony." Ducky gently pushed past Abby, who looked horrified.

****

Leroy Jethro Gibbs stepped back from the scene. This was a mess. The agent's blood was everywhere, and her head was nowhere near as intact as Kate Todd's had been. Practically caved in, almost nonexistent. "Just in time, Duck. We're done processing; the body can be moved on your call."

"Palmer is on vacation… Would you assist me in transporting the cadaver to my morgue?"

"Yeah, Duck." Together the two men moved the agent- Special Agent Tarra Hall- into a body bag, and down the stairs to the waiting gurney.

Dr. Mallard nodded to Gibbs. "Here we part ways. I intend to shed light on this girl's inadvertent killer, but I refuse to shed light for you. Let Anthony handle himself."

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm going to catch the bastard."

"Jethro, she was not one of your people."

Gibbs stared back at Ducky. "Yeah, Duck, but she might have been." He turned his gaze to the door of MTAC for a moment.

"Anthony will be fine," Ducky murmured. "Let us pray for that."

With those words, the kindhearted doctor took his leave from Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

**** That evening, in Tony's apartment

Three days.

Three whole days.

Was she okay?

Tony's plane had been delayed- he could not go to Israel until the next morning. With how long the flight would take, it would be five days. The however long it would take for Tony and the Mossad team to locate Ziva. Two, three more days?

Eight days, then.

They were probably torturing her. They were probably torturing Ziva for her nation's secrets. With eight days, they could get intel out of even Ziva, Tony's ninja Mossad assassin. With eight days, even his Ziva could be broken.

In five days, Ziva could be dead.

Hell, she could be dead all ready.

Tony did not care. He would find out where she had been or was, and kill the bastards that harmed so much as a hair on her beautiful head. Then, if Ziva was alive, she was welcome to kill him for the same reasons. Tony had hurt Ziva so much more than mere physical battery ever could.

Just as Anthony DiNozzo reached for his first bottle of whiskey in three days, the doorbell rang. The familiar bell tones chimed, followed by a knock and McGee's voice. "Tony, you are supposed to be with the Boss."

"I'm also supposed to be on a plane to Tel Aviv. How did you know I wasn't?" Tony glared at the offending door. Well, at McGee who was behind it.

"Your flight was delayed."

"Oh, that." Tony took a swig of his whiskey, and let McGee in.

Timothy immediately took the bottle from DiNozzo. "We are _not_ doing that again." He placed the bottle in the kitchen.

DiNozzo sighed, putting his face in his hands. "Probie, I love her."

There, he said it to someone other than himself.

"I know, Tony. It is and always has been rather clear. Gibbs thought you two had all ready shot rule twelve to the ground."

"We didn't." That was one thing they had _not_ shot up from the list of Gibbs' rules.

"I know."

"How do you know so damn much, McGee?"

McGee laughed. "One or the other of you would have told Abby."

Tony nodded, thoughtful. Then he stood up, looking right at McGee. "If I go to Tel Aviv- if I rescue Ziva- I can never tell her how I feel."

"Why?" Tony asked, curious.

"If I do, it'll be that much harder to leave her life forever."

Tony could not cry again. Not now.

**** Somalia

Ziva drew in her breath when the other agent was shot. Tony was safe. Her tormentor then spoke. "I keep giving you second chances to talk, Ziva David. It is so hard to torture your advantage when he is so far away. Perhaps his flight to Tel Aviv, then to here, will help?"

The brunette looked up, not showing her damned reaction. It was time to become ice again. She said nothing.

Three days of torture. So little! And such unimaginative techniques. Tony had been new, and scary, but only was introduced yesterday evening. Soon, the torturers would try new methods- ones Ziva knew even she herself could not withstand forever.

The Arab torturer held up the bloody Star of David necklace. "Perhaps I should send this to DiNozzo? As a 'Welcome to Israel' gift?" The tormentor laughed cruelly, exiting the room to leave her with nothing- taking even the surveillance feed of Tony.

Nothing was left.

_Nothing but a blank wall._

_________________________________________________

**Something I read on another fic: Send me a review with your favorite line (from any chapter)! Then I get reviews and feedback! Yay!**


	7. Ch6

Revelations

**A/N: I am sorry that my established timeline is beginning to unravel. Maybe I should have given myself a two-week instead of one-week leeway. Review and tell me if you see any blaring mistakes. Also, I once again apologize for slowness. I am on chapter 8, but I have them handwritten, so it takes some time to type up, and I am supposed to be on vacation. Don't forget to review with your favorite lines!**

Ch6

Tony got his Sig cleared at customs, then his bags, and raced through the terminal of the airport. In five minutes, the plane would take off. There was no way Tony would miss that flight. Not for anything in the world would Tony forsake his ninja.

Just in time, Tony presented his ticket at the gate and boarded the plane. Barely a minute later, the safety rules were read over the speaker and the aircraft took off. The journey began.

Commercial flights were so much more comfortable than Navy jets. But Navy jets were so much faster. DiNozzo wished Vance had given the all clear for one.

So many hours of restless sleep later, the flight touched down in Tel Aviv. It was about time! Overjoyed, DiNozzo made his way to the Mossad headquarters. Tony paid the cab driver too much, but he did not care. The Israeli cabbie stared as the green eyed American nonchalantly entered the headquarters of Israel's intelligence network.

As soon as Tony entered the building, a young Israeli woman ushered him away, back to the room where Eli David had interrogated him- or was it the other way around?- just a week ago. Half an hour later, there was the "mysterious" Eli David himself!

"In the flesh!" Tony exclaimed. "So nice to see you. I wish I could say that I was sincere."

Director David narrowed his eyes. "You should be, _Special Agent_ Anthony DiNozzo. We have located the terrorists' center of operations. And my daughter. My team is all ready in place."

_Ziva…_

"When do we go?" Tony asked, anxiously.

"You will depart to meet my team in Somalia this evening, if that is acceptable."

"Why not now?"

The Director of Mossad laughed. "You need to rest, Anthony. Being tired will ensure no one but the terrorists benefits."

Tony reluctantly nodded, agreeing.

****

That night, Tony dreamed of his Ziva.

She was dressed in the familiar cargo pants and tight tank top, armed to the teeth with guns strapped to her legs and stomach. Knives were concealed in many places on her person, Tony knew. The gold Star of David glinted on her neck.

DiNozzo raced to his love. "Ziva," he whispered, with his voice husky in his throat.

"Tony," dream Ziva whispered, reaching out to touch his face.

Before her fingers reached his cheek, she vanished.

"Ziva," he called. "ZIVA!"

A small bit of gold at his feet caught his attention. He retrieved the item, and held it dangling before his face.

_Oh, no._

****

_Knock, knock._

The knock on the door woke Tony from his nightmares. He rolled grumpily to look at the time- 3 a.m., Israel time. Somewhere around eight p.m. in Washington. DiNozzo sat up with a grunt, pulling blue jeans over his boxers and stumbling to the door.

Tony cracked the door, opening it wider when he saw the late night delivery boy. "Express package for DiNozzo," the boy said in halting English.

"That's me." Tony signed the familiar papers, and took the yellow envelope. He turned away from and closed the door.

Tony plopped down on the couch, tearing open the envelope and pouring its contents into his palm. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the gold necklace coiled in his hand, and the blood smearing it.

Ziva.

**** Mossad HQ, 6:00 a.m.

Three hours later, the necklace landed on the desk of Eli David. The Mossad Director looked up sharply, staring into DiNozzo's blazing green eyes. "Where did you get this?"

"It came to me by express mail, three hours ago."

"Three… hours?" Director David stared. "You need to join my team in Somalia immediately."

Tony nodded, taking the proffered plane voucher and exiting the headquarters of Mossad.

Eli David placed the gold necklace beside the note on his desk, which he had received shortly after intelligence of Ziva's capture.

_Eli David, Director of Mossad._

_Deliver Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo to Somalia._

_You may get your daughter back if you do so._

**** Somalia

Tony got off the plane, glad to finally be in Somalia. He looked around for the Mossad officer David had said would be waiting, and saw a "cabbie" with the name DiNozzo on a poster. Tony walked over, and the cabbie led Tony to a black Suburban. Classic government vehicle.

Before Tony even set his hand on the passenger side door, a hard blow from behind rendered him unconscious.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauties," a gravelly voice rumbled, kicking Tony (and whoever was in the other chair) into consciousness. Tony blinked a few times, and started when the world came into focus.

"ZIVA!" Tony yelled. He fought against the bonds that tied him to his chair. "Aah!" he yelled, frustrated, when they did not give at all. He relaxed dejectedly into his bonds, staring four feet in front of him at the beaten brunette.

Ziva David stared back, some incomprehensible mix of emotions on her face. Anger and joy both he saw- as well as one other emotion Tony had never really identified in the four years he had known Ziva David. He had only seen it a few times.

If he did not know any better, he would say it was love.

//// Switch viewpoint

Ziva flitted in and out of consciousness, preferring unconsciousness. In her dreams, Tony was there. Just… there. Smiling. Occasionally, when a boot called her back to the harsh lights of reality, Ziva thought she could see Tony there too- but unconscious, blood trickling from his left temple.

Only when the harsh voice of her interrogator called her fully awake did Ziva realize that DiNozzo was real. He had obviously been forcibly taken; blood flowed slowly down the left side of his face, and burns on his suit showed where he had been rough handled after being knocked out. Emotions swelled in her chest, and she knew they were visible in her face.

_Anger_: He had come for her.

Why had he come for her?

Tony was not so stupid!

Why would Tony put his life on the line for a woman he believed hated him?

_Joy_: Tony still cared enough to come.

He cared enough to come so far, to the Horn of Africa, to die in a futile rescue attempt.

_Love_: Even if this did not bowl out well for the two, she still could not help her feelings for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Her breath came short, and she refused to meet Tony's green eyes directly. She avoided that gaze with her own brown eyes, knowing that if she met those green eyes, she would not be able to keep silent.

The torturer grinned, baring his teeth in a cruel facsimile of a smile. "I shall leave you two alone, after giving DiNozzo something to think about."

His fist whipped across Tony's face, eliciting a scream, as well as a spray of blood from the broken nose.

Ziva flinched. The torturer left.

//// Switch viewpoints

Tony could not help but scream. Just something about having one's nose broken.

Once the terrorist left, Tony stayed silent for a few minutes. He let the silence grow, then shattered it.

"You weren't there." He decided to continue their last conversation.

Ziva stared back, her face incomprehensible. "I am glad."

Well, that was unexpected.

Tony said nothing.

The assassin spoke again. "Tony, I am so sorry. Do not know if I can forgive you entirely, but I shall try. I am trying. I am glad Michael is gone."

How strange. Captivity must have changed his ninja.

For once, she was apologizing to him.

Tony said nothing.

Then he said, almost to himself, "Your father asked me to come. He's worried about you, Zi."

The brown-haired woman stared for a moment, and then replied.

"The only reason my father would ask for a Catholic American's help would be in exchange for my life. He sent you here to _die_, Tony!"

DiNozzo nodded, his green eyes solemn. Not that Ziva would meet them. "I kind of figured. So, what do these guys want?"

//// Switch viewpoint

He had thought so?

He had known he was sent here to die?

Why had he come?

Why…

Tears flowed down Ziva's face.

//// Switch viewpoint

She was crying? Why was she crying?

It was not Ziva, to cry.

Tony had never seen Ziva cry, not even undercover. That wasn't what Tony wanted! He wanted to see her smile again; he wanted to see her beautiful smile.

"Ziva, don't cry," Tony begged.

"Why not?" she snapped. "You did! You drank, and you cried, and I do not know why," Ziva sobbed. "Tony, you have no idea about how badly they want this information. They quiz me for information about NCIS, and if I will not speak, they threaten to kill you."

"No, Ziva, don't cry. Please don't cry. I'm alive!" Tony would be on his knees begging now, but he had to settle for scooting close so their feet touched.

"For how long?" Ziva looked down, her dark hair hanging like a curtain in front of her face.

"For as long as you want me to be." Tony looked at her, willing her to meet his eyes. When she finally did, Tony continued. Oh, how he had missed those brown eyes! "Ziva, I intend to kill the bastards who have harmed you here. Then you can kill me, because I hurt you worse."

Ziva stared into his green eyes for a moment, seeing his sincerity, and then shook her head.

"Tony, I love you."


	8. Ch7

Revelations

**A/N: Is a contraction one or two words?**

**Also, sorry for any unrealisticness. I can definitively say I have never been *spoiler deleted*.**

Ch7

**** NCIS Forensics Lab

McGee held Abby to his chest, looking a bit overwhelmed. Abby had all ready caused him to change shirts- twice!- since Tony had left three days ago to rescue Ziva.

"Abby, I'm sure he is okay! Tony can take care of himself." McGee repeated the mantra he had been saying for three days.

The forensic scientist looked up, her eyes red and puffy. "No, he's not! He's Tony! Tony has not been safe for the past five days! You got shot because of Tony's not safeness, Timmy!"

"Abby, relax." He did not want to admit, even to himself, that she had a point.

"Timmy, how can I relax?" Abby pushed McGee into a chair, curling herself in his lap.

McGee did not intend to object, but it was a little strange. "Abby, what are you doing?"

"What do you think, McGee?"

"Uh… sitting in my lap for no apparent reason?"

"I can see that, McGee." Gibbs set a Caf-Pow! on the table, turning to face his temporary partner. (Since the rest of the team was out of the country.)

McGee scrambled up, dumping Abby onto the forensics lab floor.

"Oww, Timmy!" she said indignantly, standing up and brushing off her lab coat.

"Abs, what have you got for me?" Gibbs glared a moment at the two, then focused on the forensics expert.

Abby sighed. "The same thing as yesterday. Plain rounds, nothing special about them. The sniper could have shot from a building across the street, but Smith's old team checked the scene and found nothing. Right now I am running a diagnostic to identify a strange particle I found on one of the bullets."

"Get it done, Abs!" Gibbs called as he left the lab.

**** Somalia

Tony stared, not sure if he was silent because he was awestruck or dumbstruck. He knew his mouth would be hanging open, and after a moment of thought managed to close it. God, how long he had been waiting to hear those words from her lips!

But… No.

Instead of saying what he wished he could, he said the hardest three words of his life.

"Don't say that." He looked sadly at the beautiful woman.

She flinched at the refusal. "Tony…"

Tony shook _his_ head, now. "Ziva, I know. But I made a promise. If you say that, it will only be harder for me- for us- to do what we have to." It was Tony's turn to avoid his partner's dark brown gaze.

A harsh laugh diverted the partners' attentions, and Tony's chair was yanked to the far wall.

"So sweet," crowed the torturer. "I am a nice guy, no? I let your love bond with you, no?" he whispered in Ziva's ear. "But I do not think he wanted you, Ziva David."

Ziva tried not to hear, but the words wormed their way into her mind. She tried to keep her words impersonal as Tony's jacket and dress shirt were stripped off, and he was chained, struggling, to the wall.

The Arab torturer smiled, placing his hand on Ziva's cheek as the goonies who chained up Tony left. Ziva flinched away from his touch, her eyes never leaving Tony… as well as, she had to admit, his well-muscled chest. Tony had stopped fighting the chains that held him at the ankles and wrists to the wall.

The Arab followed Ziva's gaze again, and spoke quietly in her ear.

"I am going to ask you some questions, Ziva David. For every question you do not answer, DiNozzo will receive a painful shock." He held a stun gun before Ziva's face, and let the electrical current click for a few long seconds.

Ziva David let herself turn into stone. If she could withstand pain, so could DiNozzo. And both she and Tony knew the importance of staying silent.

The interrogator walked with a rolling gait over to Tony, and turned back to Ziva.

"How long have you been with NCIS, Ziva?"

The simplicity of the question startled Ziva. Where were the questions about Navy defense? Somewhere in her mind Ziva knew this was a standard interrogation technique, if more original than what she had so far endured; she supposed that the bright lights and constant pain, and interruptions of sleep must be clouding her thoughts.

She worked slowly through the question, though the torturer took her silence as a refusal to answer. He held the active stun gun to Tony's bare chest, grinning.

Tony's face contorted with pain, but he did not scream. He refused to give this man the satisfaction of that. Finally Tony released his breath, once the frustrated terrorist released the stun gun. Sweat beaded on his forehead all ready, and his breath came heavy.

"Now, I will ask you again, Miss David. How long have you been associated with NCIS?"

Such a simple question. It deserved a simple answer.

The confused, battered, and bruised Ziva fought to clear her mind and find that elusive answer.

Was it not… Had it not been four years since that first trip to D.C.? A little less since she had gotten her liaison position?

Just before she spoke, the rational part of her mind stopped her. **_Why give these people anything?_**

_But Tony!_ argued another, love struck part.

**_Tony is strong._**

The rational part won out, and Ziva remained silent.

//// Switch

Electrical convulsions racked his body, and Tony could not help but let out a pained yell. He screamed when he felt his left arm re break. It had hurt enough the first time!

When the shock let up, Tony spoke between breaths. "Since I am the one actually in NCIS, shouldn't you be asking _me_ this stuff?"

The terrorist leaned in. "Soon. Very soon, DiNozzo." Then he pressed the stun gun to Tony again.

Tony watched the man walk over to Ziva. He pulled her head back by the hair, looked her in the eyes, and held the stun gun to her ribs.

"How long have you been with NCIS?" he asked again, to Ziva still. Tony's ninja remained silent.

Before the Arab could turn on the stun gun, Tony blurted, "Four years."

The terrorist looked over at DiNozzo, chained to the wall. "How long?"

Tony hated himself for giving in. "A little less than four years, now. I don't know how long for Mossad, though."

"It is good I asked for NCIS, then, not Mossad. Thank you, Agent DiNozzo." The torturer straightened up. "I have all the time in the world. Just one question a day, until I have all the information I require. Then, you shall get out of this place."

He leaned in. "I can guarantee that."

Tony did not doubt that. It looked like the only way he was getting out of here was in a body bag. Ziva, he could help. "Could you at least sit me back in a chair?" Tony asked, mind whirling.

The Arab considered. "No."

Tony's plots came crashing down, until the terrorist added, "But I may let you down."

"How?"

Tony's question was answered when the two goons who had chained him up, came in and took him down. Too weak to stand on his own, Tony was dragged down the hall to an empty closet. They threw him in.

Before they closed the door, the terrorist called to him, "This is not to punish you, but rather your girlfriend."

Then the door was closed and locked.

It was not so bad until he heard the rats.

//// Switch

What was DiNozzo thinking?

What on _earth_ possessed Tony to give that evil man the information?

Reluctantly, she supposed Tony had been protecting her.

But did he not know it hurt more to watch the electricity convulse his body?

Did he not know how his bleeding, his pain, cut into her soul?

Did he not know how she felt?

But…

Maybe it had been a dream.

Maybe she had never told Tony those three words.

Maybe she had dreamed his rejection.

That would be best, she supposed.

To pretend it had never happened, except in her hurting mind.

Maybe it had not been real.

Maybe her mind had magnified her feelings, latched onto the good side of Tony to get her through the long, sleepless days.

Maybe…

_Just keep telling yourself that, Ziva. Then maybe it will be true._

//// Switch

The cell phone's glow illuminated his face in the dimly lit space, highlighting his broken and bloody body. Tony glanced around occasionally, nervous of the large rats sharing the closet with him.

Tony pressed SEND, watching Ziva's last hope go flitting off into cyberspace.

He just hoped the phone had enough battery left to finish sending.

**** NCIS Forensics Lab

McGee was about to call Gibbs. Abby had identified the foreign particle on the bullet as a speck of dirt specific to one region in Somalia.

Then his phone buzzed, to let him know he had a text message. Tony was the only one who ever sent him texts.

"Hey Abby, I just got a text from Tony!" McGee called, causing the eager scientist to rush over.

"What does it say? What does it say? Open it, McGee!" Abby bounced up and down eagerly.

"Hang on, Abby!" McGee opened the text message, and dropped his phone, a shocked look evident on his visage.

Slowly he bent down, picked up the phone again, and called Gibbs.

"Boss?"

"McGee."

"I just got a text from Tony."

"Where are you?"

"Abby's lab."

_Click._


	9. Ch8

Revelations

**A/N: Three hits today? Really? I mean, I know I haven't updated lately or anything, but… Three? That's really bad, since I was one of them, showing the story to my aunt! Is my summary really that lame? Tell me truly!**

**Review!**

**It's the green button!**

Ch8

Gibbs raced down to Abby's lab, anxiety apparent on his face to any who knew him even remotely well. He stormed into the forensics lab, and extended his open hand to McGee. McGee's face was scrunched up, and Abby paced nervously behind him, tears streaming silently down her face.

McGee passed his cell phone to the Boss.

Gibbs looked at the text message: A picture of Tony, bloody and shirtless, looking at the camera. He had a couple obvious broken bones- namely, his nose and arm- and burns on his chest and arms. Below it, a caption read simply, "Ziva looks worse".

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs wheeled immediately around, and stalked angrily to the office of Director Leon Vance.

****

Vance looked up when the cell smacked down onto his desk, right on the papers he was reading. "What is this, Agent Gibbs?"

"Where the hell did Eli David send DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled, leaning in with both hands onto Vance's desk.

"How should I know? That is his and DiNozzo's business."

Eyes steely, Gibbs pointed silently to the open phone.

Leon Vance picked up the device, and almost instantly picked up his desk phone and punched in several digits.

"Shalom, my friend."

Gibbs could not catch the words of Eli David, Mossad Director.

"I was wondering about the location of my agent.

Yes, Anthony DiNozzo.

I know. So he left without notice?"

Vance glanced up at Gibbs, who sighed.

"Thanks, Eli.

Wait, one more thing- I am forwarding you a text message received by DiNozzo's partner a few minutes ago.

Yes, call me back when you get it. Thank you.

Shalom."

_Click._

A few minutes later, the phone rang.

"Shalom.

No, I am not implying anything, Eli.

No, Eli, I just want my agent back.

Eli! The only one blaming you is yourself!

Eli! Do not hang up!"

_Click._

Vance looked up at Gibbs, wary.

Gibbs offered some advice. "Usually, when people are so defensive in interrogation, they are guilty."

The wary look was replaced by a solid glare.

Gibbs smiled, and took McGee's cell phone. "Now I will have my team, my _reliable_ team, track down Tony's location."

He left the office, half a smile lingering on his face.

****

"Boss, his cell is off, but I might still be able to get the location the message was sent from." McGee glanced at Gibbs.

"Get to. I want my agents back."

Gibbs sipped his coffee, and left to get a refill.

**** Somalia

DiNozzo looked sullenly at the dead cell phone. He was only sure where it was because it was clenched in his right fist. It was so dark, since the dim light bulb above his head had gone dead.

Tony jumped as a black shape scuttled over him. "I _hate_ rats!" he hissed to himself.

Why did the terrorists not put him in a chair? Less breathing room, but it was not like the tall agent could stand up in the tiny closet, anyway. And he would be able to _see_.

And then Ziva would have someone to talk to, and something to look at other than a wall.

He felt guilty, now, and dirty, knowing that Ziva cared for him in a way Tony could never honestly return- not with the deal he had made to even get this far.

Not that he did not love Ziva. God, he loved Ziva! But, if they got out of this- with emphasis on _they_- two things would hold Tony back from his own desire.

His unwilling promise to daddy David.

Ziva's loyalties would keep her in Israel, and Tony's would return him reluctantly to Washington.

****

A few hours of whirling thought and restless consciousness later, the door creaked open. Tony blinked owlishly as light flooded his dark world, squinting to make out the dark shapes of his tormentors through the harsh light.

He was hauled out, and felt the cell phone tugged from his tight grasp.

"Who did you contact, DiNozzo?" The languorous, yet harsh, voice of the interrogator reminded Tony of where he was.

Tony blinked again, letting his eyes adjust. He ignored the terrorist's question.

Quick Arabic words caused DiNozzo to be returned to the room his Ziva was tied in.

But where was she?

There was her chair- empty, blood pooled on the floor around it, both dried and fresh.

"Tony," he heard her whisper. He whipped his head around, seeing her chained to the wall.

DiNozzo tried to break from his captors and go to her, but the Arab goons held him back. The interrogator produced a bullwhip, brandishing it before Tony.

"Agent DiNozzo, I will now ask you some questions. For each one you do not answer, David shall be beaten until you answer it. Like so." He proceeded to hit Ziva once, twice, three times; until blood dripped from the raw place on her exposed stomach. Her shirt was all ready torn, and nearly not there, from the beatings she had previously endured.

"So, who did you contact?"

"No one. Phone died before I could." Honesty was never the best policy.

The whip smacked across Ziva again, causing her to whimper as it dug into her flesh. Tony flinched.

"Did I mention I wanted the truth, Anthony?"

"You just did," Tony pointed out.

_Smack_.

"Who did you call?"

"Ghostbusters. You really ought to do something about the malevolent spirits in your broom closet."

_Smack._ Tony could not help but growl angrily.

"Who did you contact, Agent DiNozzo?"

"All right, you got me!"

"WHO?!"

Tony hung his head. "Better ingredients. Better pizza. Papa John's."

Ziva, who had been mostly silent through her beating, laughed.

"Only you could think of your stomach, Tony."

This time, the whip connected with Ziva's swollen cheek, and she cried out.

"I told you the truth the first time," Tony pointed out. "You can check; the battery is very dead."

Upon confirming Tony's story, the frustrated terrorist crushed the cell phone beneath his boot heel.

"So, how long have you been with NCIS?"

"Eight years or so, now. We have a love-hate relationship, but it is a good one. We have been living together for six odd years now, so I think it is about time for me to get the ball rolling. It's time for me to propose. I mean, I love her; why shouldn't I?" Tony nodded wisely, adding, "Plus, I think she's been expecting me to."

Ziva rolled her eyes. The torturer did not bother to whip her; rather, he punched Tony in the face.

"You know, this is odd." DiNozzo grinned through the fresh blood from his nose. "You seem a tad frustrated, dude."

Now Ziva was whipped, across the chest. She winced, letting out a little gasp of pain.

"Really flustered. Whom are you working for, anyway? Your methods are a bit… lackluster. Are you some Hamas half-wit who made a mistake and is trying to bone up by getting known information out of David's little girl?" Tony's green eyes flicked sadly to Ziva for a moment.

"Listen here, Agent DiNozzo," growled the interrogator. "I should be the best. I was the best. Then they kicked me out. But you still need to listen to me," he added harshly. "David belongs to _me_ so long as I have his daughter."

Tony _hmph_ed. "So what do you need me for? If you control a bunch of assassins?"

The torturer pulled out his gun, fed up with Tony's goading.

Tony just laughed.

"You will not shoot me. You need me to get to Ziva." He met Ziva's eyes, willing her to play along with what he said next.

"But you know what? It does not matter. Ziva is some freaking Mossad ice sculpture. Daddy trained her too well to give in just because of some dumb Catholic American." Tony grinned. "Plus, I killed her boyfriend. She got pissed, too. It's why you could capture her. So… do you think she would care if you scattered the contents of my head?"

Ziva furrowed her brow. Was Tony suicidal? The assassin could not see how baiting a man with a gun was a good idea. Then she noticed: The safety was on. Tony just felt like being a smart alice.

He wanted to embarrass the half-witted torturer.

"You are a bad liar, DiNozzo. I know how both of you feel." The angry interrogator pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Tony pouted sarcastically. "You mean I gave that great kill me speech and the safety was on? Aww, how sad is that!"

The flustered terrorist signaled to his chuckling goons, who towed Tony away to the closet again. Ziva, he left chained to the wall.

**** NCIS Forensics

Gibbs did not even have to ask as he set down a Caf-Pow! beside Abby.

"Boss, the cell phone company gave me the last known location for Tony's cell," McGee said, pulling up the address as Abby took a sip of her drink.

"Pack your bags, McGee. We're going on a field trip."

****

Vance nodded as he saw Gibbs walk in. "I cannot formally condone your taking this trip."

"Formally?" Gibbs inquired.

"Go for it. Bring him home."

"Pretend we are going on vacation!" Gibbs called over his shoulder as he wheeled out of the office once more.

________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Hi. :)**

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**Review with your favorite line from this or any chapter, or anything you want to say. I accept any review, so just hit the green button below my magic words!**

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	10. Ch9

Revelations

**A/N: I GIVE UP!!!! I can't go however many days it's been to post the next chapter. I am all ready hard at work at the sequel, but I like posting this fic. So, to all who reviewed, THANK you very kindly. Sorry Nine's so short, but I am asking you to continue the 15 from last chapter in order to get ten. Don't worry, only eight of you lazy peeps need to review now.**

Ch9

McGee and Gibbs boarded the flight, impatience clear on both men's faces.

Once the plane was under way, McGee turned to Gibbs. His face was thoughtful.

"Boss, why did you bring me?"

Gibbs turned from the window. "What, McGee?"

"Why did you bring me?"

"Would you rather I had left you in Washington?" Gibbs' face was just a tad amused.

"Well… No… But…"

"Then what's the problem, McGee?"

Tim's face scrunched. "Well, I am always the guy who stays behind. I execute warrants and photograph crime scenes; I can only remember a few times I have pulled my gun for anything other than target practice. What made you let me come?"

"You're my agent, McGee. I trust you on my six." Gibbs glared seriously at McGee.

"But…" Tim let his voice trail.

"More than that, you're DiNozzo's friend. That's what tony needs now."

McGee nodded, and Gibbs continued his speech. "Knowing DiNozzo, he's probably feeling suicidal. I may need you to knock him out and _drag_ his ass back to Washington."

McGee laughed, but then sobered. "We may have to do that anyway, if Ziva won't come home with us."

Gibbs said nothing, just turned back to the window.

It was an excruciatingly long plane trip.

****

The two agents were the first off the plane. That was one big perk to the badge and gun.

Gibbs hailed a taxi, and the two made it to some dump hotel twenty miles from the warehouse where Tony was held.

"Tomorrow," confirmed Gibbs, before McGee could even ask.

**** The Warehouse (next morning)

Tony and Ziva were now tied together, back to back in two chairs.

"You know what this reminds me of right now, Zi?" Tony whispered, craning his neck to see the unbruised side of Ziva's face.

"I think so, Jean-Paul," she whispered seductively, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

Tony longed to experiment with repeating some of the other things they had tried, while under cover. But for real, this time around… even the thought made him shiver in anticipation.

The punch to the nose brought him out of his reverie.

"Dang, what is it with you and punching me in the face?" Tony yelled irately, not relishing the feel of blood streaming down his face and chest. He was somewhat surprised that his head had anything left in it. Not that Ziva would say there was anything there to begin with.

"You annoy me so," hissed the terrorist.

Tony nodded sagely. "Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people."

Ignoring Tony's goading, the interrogator leaned calmly against the wall. Now, for today's question. What is your Agent Gibbs like?"

"_Special_ Agent Gibbs kicks some serious terrorist ass, if that's what you mean," Tony voiced glibly.

"Is that all? Tell me everything you know of him. So long in the agency, you must know something of him. Likes, dislikes, mannerisms, how to rile him- anything."

Ziva smiled. "If you control my agency, why not read the dossier we prepared of him for Ari Haswari's assignment and my liaison position?"

The tormentor brushed off Ziva's pointed jab. He looked at Tony questioningly. "Anything else whatsoever?"

"Gee, Gibbs is awesome. He loves his job. I don't think I have heard him say more than eight words in a single sentence, though. Most the time it's about four words. 'Gas the truck, DiNozzo,'" he mimicked. "The Boss is one private dude."

Tony knew a lot about Gibbs. But why share with these people?

The torturer snarled. "Do not make me resort to less friendly methods than before."

Ziva laughed sharply, cynically. "I do not think we shall survive. So why bother trying?"

"You would die less painfully," snarled the torturer. He tore Tony out of the chair. One of the goons held him still as the Arab leveled his gun to Tony's chest. Safety off, this time.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Done with me so quickly? How long has it been- two, three days, now?"

DiNozzo's green eyes then lighted upon the figures in the doorway.

"You sure took your time, McSlowpoke!"

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._


	11. Ch10

Revelations

A/N: Yeah, I'm about to leave for a week so I want to post at least one more chapter before going. I'm taking it on faith that someone will review the last couple for nine in my absence! Just one more chapter after this one!

Ch10

Ziva woke slowly, drowsily, feeling herself curled in someone's warm, strong embrace. Someone's well muscled, one armed embrace. _Tony…_

Her eyes flicked open, to stare into Tony's worried green gaze. "Hey," he whispered, a smile on his face.

The brunette sat up, almost falling off the seat before Tony caught her good arm with his own.

"Careful."

Ziva nodded, looking over Tony silently. A bandage stretched over his chest, red blood leaking slowly through still. His left arm was back in a sling. He had cleaned off most of the blood on him; but she was clean, too. And wearing a fresh tank top.

Tony saw her glance down, and blushed a bit. "I couldn't leave you like that."

Ziva suddenly realized why he blushed. He was the one who had changed her… Apparently, her cognitive skills were still not at pear.

Then, she remembered a few things she had needed to ask. "What happened? The last thing I remember was hitting my head."

"Well, you got knocked to the floor by that idiot interrogator. Gibbs shot the interrogator at the same time as he shot me. I passed out, but McHero says that he shot one goon while the other one drops me and pops two at McGee and the Boss with terrorist leader's gun, then gets shot by Gibbs."

Ziva fingered the place where her necklace should have been, thoughtful. After a minute or so, she met Tony's eyes.

"Tony, we need to talk," she began.

"I talk, you listen," Tony murmured, voice husky. He realized that now was when he had to make his choice, had to follow through.

"The way it was laid out for me, I was given two options. Either I can make it easier on you, or harder. I picked easier… Well, your dad did, and I made a promise." He looked at her a bit sadly. "Trust me, Zi. It's better this way."

Ziva stared as the man she loved retreated to another part of the rented plane.

She turned in her seat, seeing McGee- both arms bandaged now- on another armchair a few feet away. She slipped into the chair across from him.

"What promise did Tony make to the Director of Mossad?"

McGee looked up from his magazine, noting that she did not say 'Eli' or 'my father'. "I'm… not sure that I should tell you, Ziva."

"Tell me or I will ask Abby to kill you and leave no forensic evidence."

"All right, all right." McGee paused, glancing towards where Tony sat on the other side of the door to the conference room. "Just know that it was your father's idea, but Tony would do anything for you."

"_Tell me_, McGee." Ziva's voice approached danger levels.

"Your father made Tony a deal. Tony could rescue you, but then he'd have to get out of your life…" McGee paused. "Forever."

Ziva hissed, "How _dare_ he!"

McGee did not ask who she meant. Either one seemed appropriate in her situation. "You don't know how much it hurt him, how much it still hurts him, Ziva. You weren't there to see how your staying back messed him up."

She nodded shortly. "I know how much it hurt me, though." Ziva slipped away again, to stand outside the conference room door, hand poised to knock.

****

Tony slammed the wooden door, leaning back against it. He regretted having done what he had…But it was better for Ziva, to think that was his limit. It was better for her not to know he loved her. It was better for her not to know how much he cared.

…

Wasn't it?

Tony had no idea.

A minute or so later, he just sat down at one of the table's chairs, lost in fantasy.

****

A hand touched Ziva's shoulder. She turned… It was Gibbs. "Leave him be," the silver-haired agent said gently.

Ziva followed Gibbs to where he had been sitting. The garbage can beside him was filled with coffee cups, of course.

Gibbs sat down, inviting Ziva to do the same.

"Ziva, I know how you feel. DiNozzo's got it worse… Trust me."

"What does Tony have?" Ziva asked, bewildered and concerned.

"The love bug,' Gibbs replied with a slight smile touching his lips. "But I know where your loyalties lie."

The shadow across his face suggested he knew more than told. Vance must have mentioned her orders on Ari; it was the only thing that would make Gibbs' face sour like that.

"So does DiNozzo." Because she had stayed in Israel. "He won't push you, except to keep you away. He will not force you into anything, no matter which way you choose. Tony thinks it's better for you to stay away."

Gibbs paused.

"And so do I."

Ziva stared, shocked. _That_ was not what she had expected…

But what had she expected?

Gibbs' blessing?

Ha, not likely. Rule twelve.

Ohhh, how she had hated that rule. How she hated it still.

"Don't get me wrong, Ziva. I will always have a desk ready for you in my bullpen. But Tony's heart can_not_ take any more breaking."

_Tony's_ heart?

Ziva drew in a breath, now realizing why he had avoided saying anything and avoiding letting her say anything.

Oh, Tony… He was always so masochistic, so self-sacrificing, when it came to others. When it came to her.

No matter what others said, Tony… Tony cared.

He did not want her to get hurt, like he had before without meaning to, even through his own pain.

Ziva put her head into her hands. "Gibbs, I have to stay in Israel."

"I knew you would."

She looked up, her brown eyes steady on his icy blue stare.

"Keep that desk open, though."

Ziva retreated, pulling herself into a chair to stare at that wooden door.

****

Tony knew he should be somewhere Gibbs could keep an eye on him. He had been shot in the chest, after all. Ducky had coached McGee through patching him up, and the wound was… fairly… minor… _ish_… but the hole right below his collar bone still hurt.

Oh, well.

Who would care if he dropped dead?

That niggling, annoying voice in his head pointed out, _Well, there's always Ziva._

Ziva…

There was always Ziva.

But were her feelings real?

Had she been speaking rationally, in that dungeon of a place?

Tony hoped not. Tony knew that, even if he had not made that promise, he would not be able return her love so fervently.

Not forever.

Not with his track record.

Tony banged his head on the table, wishing there was a way to solve this without hurting her.

****

Ziva could not contain it anymore. Not in the lightest.

Just as she reached her hand to the door, the phone next to her seat rang.

Being nearest to the device, Ziva lifted it to her ear. "NCIS," she murmured, figuring it would be for Gibbs.

"Do not forget your loyalties, daughter." Eli David spoke in Hebrew.

Ziva drew in her breath. This could be the conversation she had been dreading. "I shall return to Israel, and Mossad, for now. We should land in a few minutes," she replied in English, glancing back to see if Gibbs had heard her addition.

"Good, for now," he replied, slightly acidic. "I await you on the runway."

Her father hung up, leaving Ziva no choice but to accept her own decision.

She felt tears build again, but held them back.

Ziva lightly knocked on the door to the conference room. Hearing a resulting crash from within, she quickly opened the door to see Tony collapsed on the floor.

She offered her hand, which Tony took and stood shakily up. "Tried to stand up a bit too fast," he explained sheepishly.

Ziva nodded, dark eyes piercing his green ones.

"I have to stay."

"Good." Tony turned away sorrowfully.

She flashed her hand out, catching his cheek and turning him back to face her.

"Tony, don't take this the wrong way."

"What's the right way?" He laughed bitterly. "Zi, go. Just… If you ever need me, call."

"I will."

Ziva brushed his lips, a cool ghost of a kiss, and disappeared.

Just minutes later, Tony watched her fade away on the tarmac, again.


	12. Ch11

Revelations

**A/N: After this chapter, you are all going to be angry with me. Especially as this is my last **_**planned**_** chapter for this fic.**

**I have a proposal for you: Review this chapter. Tell me what you would rather have, based on the ending.**

**Another chapter, which resolves my story happily? Or a sequel?**

**Keep in mind, my happy ending is intended for the sequel which I am all ready writing chapter four of.**

**Cheers,**

**Foxtail : )**

Ch11

Ziva watched the plane fade away into nothing but a heat shimmer in the burning Israeli sun, and turned back to her father. The hurt was clear in her eyes.

"Why did you send me there? You knew… You knew I would be captured by those half-witted Hamas terrorists, and then you played Tony!"

Eli David stared down at his daughter. "I knew there was a chance you would be captured. It is a part of our life. You know this, child."

He thrust the ransom note he had received into her hands.

"And this is why I played that American agent."

Ziva looked up quickly, disbelieving.

Director David added, "He killed Michael, so his death could be sanctioned at any moment anyhow."

Something steely in his eyes told him something terrible would happen, soon.

Maybe it was the hatred shielded by that veneer of glistening, hard steel.

It was not to come to pass at this very moment, however. David placed an arm around her unprotesting shoulder, leading Ziva away.

****

She was in the basement. Heard Ari's voice again…

Saw him prepare to fire…

Saw Gibbs' face…

Fired.

Heard the report of her weapon.

Felt the anguish in her own body.

Saw the relief in Gibbs' face:

Saw the trust there.

Saw Ari's bloody body…

Looked into those hurt green eyes.

… Green?

She sat up, sweat pouring from her frightened body. Ziva almost reached for the cell phone, but stopped herself.

_Just a dream, Ziva. Just a dream._

**** Tony's apartment, D.C.

Tony rolled out of bed, restless.

His hand almost groped for the new cell phone, but he checked himself.

_Let Zi call me._

Then that phone rang, and he jumped for it eagerly.

Caller ID: Tim.

"MaGoo, what do you want at ten o'clock?"

"You sound grumpy. Isn't ten early for you?"

"A, I just got back from a transcontinental flight during which I broke two people's hearts, and B… well… wasn't getting shot in the chest and tortured a good enough reason?"

"Tony, sorry."

"Don't apologize, Probie. What did you want?"

"Uh…" McGee was suddenly nervous.

"Spit it out, McAnxious. Did Abby propose?"

"No, but Abby's listening on the speakerphone," Abby replied with a grin. Well, he wasn't exactly sure about the grin. But it was likely there.

"Hi, Abby."

"Hi, Tony!"

"So… uh… Abby wanted to talk to you and knew you'd pick up for me," Tim stuttered.

"Tony," Abby started, "why on _earth_ did you not get Ziva to come back?"

Oh, no. Not this again.

Couldn't he be left to heal in peace?

"I'm not what she needs," Tony replied cynically.

"She's your best friend, and the love of your life! Did you even _tell_ her that?"

"Well…" Tony shifted, aware that the forensic genius would sense how uncomfortable he was. "Not in so many words."

"Oh, Tony." Abby clucked sadly.

"Are you pretending to be a chicken, Abs?"

Abby ignored him. "Tony, if you had told her, she would have come back. You guys are perfect for each other!"

Tony regretted telling McGee how he felt. Somewhere deep down, he had known this would happen.

"Abby, don't push this," he heard Tim whisper.

"Why not?" she hissed in return.

"It's going to take some time for him to heal, and botched counseling won't help!"

"Sure it will!"

Tony sighed. "You guys _are_ on speakerphone. You know that, right? It means I can hear you."

He could practically hear their exchange of guilty glances.

"We know, Tony… But really! Call Ziva! I miss her! You're not the only one who loves her!" Abby exclaimed.

"Abby, don't make me."

"I will if I have to. Right now it's a friendly request."

Tony shook his head, knowing they couldn't see. "She has to call me."

"Ziva's never going to call you! She thinks you hate her! After all, you're the one who told her 'Thanks, but no thanks' on the plane!"

"McGee!"

"She's an extortionist, Tony!"

"Bye," Tony said, hanging up.

He looked at the clock. Ten thirty.

That was… Five thirty, Israel time.

A few hours of sleep, and then… Maybe!... he could call that oh-so-familiar number.

He wouldn't, though.

Ziva had to call first.

Ziva had to come home.

**** Israel

She ran, so hard.

Faster than normal.

Harder than normal.

Longer than normal.

Ziva knew she should not. She had, after all, just been in a cell in Somalia.

Anything to take her mind off that dream.

It felt like she was in another, more frightening dream- one where she longed to find something but could never quite catch it.

At the end of her tunnel was that cell phone.

Ziva pretended she did not see the phone, not even when she collapsed on her couch at home.

Seven a.m. Midnight in Washington.

_It is Tony,_ she thought. _He may be awake._

Come on, Ziva! Number two in your speed dial!

Ziva pulled over her phone, pressing the two. Her finger hovered over the call button.

She had tried not to even look at it, since her return. She had left it in Tel Aviv on her mission.

Ziva dialed her voicemail instead.

One from Abby, telling her to come home. One day after her aliyah.

Two from advertisers in California, who had gotten the phone number somehow.

One from Tony, dated the day after she was captured.

"Zee-vah," he called, voice slurred. Drunk.

"Zee-vah, come home," he called again. "I miss you, Zee-vah. Tim said I shouldn't call you. But he also said something about not drinking."

She heard the clink of glass as Tony paused.

"I think you've said something about not drinking before, too. _Yeah, another one, George,"_ he said to the bartender quietly. "George is a real nice guy, Zi. Mm-hm. Well, I'll let you get back to mourning your boyfriend or whatever it is Mossad assassins do when they abandon their entire lives and loyal-er friends."

She heard the beep of her phone ending the message, and hung up. Tears streamed silently down her face.

_Horse up, Ziva. He does not want you._

Then her phone rang, making her jump.

"McFlower Power is calling!" trilled Tony's voice.

Ziva hesitantly picked up. "I miss you and Abby, Tim."

"Well, that's good. We miss you, too!" Abby said excitedly. McGee chuckled softly in the background.

"How is Tony?" she asked softly.

"He's-" McGee began, only to be cut off.

"Heartbroken, Ziva! He _needs_ you!"

Ziva's heart skipped a beat. Stupid heart.

"If he needed me, he would not have told me I was better off with Mossad," she hissed harshly.

"Ziva, Tony is an IDIOT! He wants you to be happy, and thinks you're better off there," Abby blurted. "…Are you?" she added, hesitantly.

Ziva thought it through. Was she truly better off in Israel?

"I do not know," she whispered, hanging up before Abby could reply.

**** NCIS HQ, next week

Tony finally returned to work, seeing the familiar open squadroom and grinning.

One handed, Tony twirled Abby around before she crushed him in a hug.

"I am a broken man, Abby," he pointed out with a smile.

"More than physically," Abby muttered to herself.

Tony glared, and plopped into his desk chair.

McGee looked up. "Hi, Tony."

"Tim! How goes it!"

"New computer," Tim said proudly, turning the monitor so Tony could see.

"Touch screen. Fancy," Tony remarked, impressed. "That must have cost a month of pay!"

"Boss somehow convinced Vance. It came in yesterday."

Tony nodded.

The next few days were spent processing reports, et cetera. Apparently, no one felt the need to kill a Marine now, which worked for Tony. Slow was good.

**** 2 weeks later **** Israel

Ziva slipped into the Director of Mossad's office. "Father, you summoned," she said n Hebrew.

"I did, my darling. I have an assassination for you. Sanctioned. Simple."

His steely eyes bored into hers.

"Anything, father."

Eli nodded, seeing something in her face.

"Your loyalty has been wavering, Ziva. Here you can prove yourself to me."

Ziva replied again, "Anything."

He slipped the photo across the desk.

"Do your best. It determines your status here."

…

Green eyes stared up at her from the page.


	13. An Ending

**A/n: So, this is my ending:**

**Tune in for the sequel! Kaleidoscope!**

**REMEMBER IT"**

**"Kaleidoscope"**

**Most sincerely,**

**Your slave Foxtail.**

**P.S. Thanks for reading, and read the next one because even the first chapter is more closure than I provided in this story so far. : )**


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